


Tumblr Prompts

by klingonvalhalla



Category: Adam (2009), Charlie Countryman (2013), Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Bottom Nigel, M/M, Self Harm, The Thing AU, Werewolf AU, ftm Nigel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-06-02
Packaged: 2018-05-18 21:30:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 14,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5943739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/klingonvalhalla/pseuds/klingonvalhalla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A compilation of various prompts I've gotten on tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blind Date (Spacedogs)

**Author's Note:**

> @deanwinchesterisasexybastard
> 
> Prompt for you: blind date. It goes surprisingly well.

Initially he’d thought asking the kid seated across from him about his job had been a mistake. Gradually he thought less about the deal that had been royally fucked and paid more attention to what the kid, Adam he’d learned, was talking about.

He learned a coworker had convinced him to come. A new experience mostly to meet people outside of the observatory. The coworker in question was at the other end of the bar looking less than enthused at her own match. He caught her sneaking glances over to their table, wanting an out.

At the moment, all Nigel could focus on were those lovely eyes that skirted just outside his gaze. Adam reminded him of a deer, all long limbs with fluttery fingers. He’d been ready to bolt when Nigel had first opened his mouth.

Over the course of an hour he watched Adam unwind and relax. His cheeks were flushed from both talking and the champagne.

“I’m sorry,” Adam said suddenly, breaking the lull Nigel had fallen into.

“Sorry for what?”

“I-uh, I’ve been told it’s rude to talk so much. It can overwhelm people and they’re often too polite to stop me.”

“Why the fuck would anyone want you to stop talking, gorgeous?”

He watched Adam’s cheeks darken, that flush spreading to the tips of his ears. He watched him fumble for words. It tugged at his chest in a way he hadn’t felt in years. Fuck the deal, he thought. The prick who screwed up the match he was supposed to get tonight deserved a fucking tip. Nigel was finding himself much more interested in ultraviolet astronomy than how much he could’ve got for the bricks he acquired last week.

“Hey, you hungry?”

“Oh, um- I ate before Carol picked me up.”

“That’s a shame. I’m fucking starving.”

Nigel could see disappointment etched right into the line of the kid’s shoulders. He reached across the table and put a hand over Adam’s, felt him jump under the touch, but made no move to pull away. “What I’m saying, gorgeous, is I’d like you to come with me and keep talking.”

“There are four take out restaurants from here to my house, if you-um-you wanted to see the differences between ultraviolet and X-ray.”

“I would fucking love to, darling.”


	2. Cracked (Spacedogs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked:
> 
> PROMPT; NIGELS REACTION TO SEEING ADAM GET SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF THAT HE HITS A MIRROR WITH HIS HEAD LIKE HE DID IN THE MOVIE PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Nigel wanted nothing more than to get inside, take a piss, get some water and an aspirin, then pass out. Not in a particular order, but he’d prefer to take a piss before he passed out. The keys jingled in his shaking hands, rattling in his skull and pounding behind his eyes.

Fuck, he thought, I’m getting too old to do this shit. Fuck Darius and his insistence to try everything that passes through his grasp. Fuck him for not being able to say fucking no. Ten years back and he’d still be humming with energy and wanting to fuck Adam through the god damn mattress until their neighbor banged on the wall.

The sun was just starting to brighten the sky to a soft gray, and his nose was crusted with dried blood and powder. He’d told Adam that he’d be home no later than 2, “ _just a bit of business, baby_ ,” but when someone offers you a line of pure snow, it was hard to deny them. Particularly when that someone was offering you a quick transport job worth half a mil.

When he got the door open, Nigel winced at the creaking hinges and the clatter of the keys in the dish beside the coat rack. He was already half way to the kitchen, now decided on a cup of that awful flower tea Adam kept in the cabinet next to the microwave. It’d help with the headache, despite how it tasted like lawnmower clippings. He was in the living room, already slinging his jacket across the back of the couch before he noticed the lights were still on.

“Nigel?”

Adam unfolded from the couch and stood in front of him where he’d froze in mid-stride. The kid looked about as exhausted as he felt. “Hey, gorgeous,” he tried to smile but it pulled at the dried mess in his nostrils. _Sorry I’m late, I was doing blow. I had so much shit up my nose I forgot the time._ None of it sounded good, but lying to Adam would be worse in the long run. Adam may not be able to read people, but he’d been with Nigel long enough to know a lie when he told one.

“I should have texted you.” He said, fighting the urge to hide when Adam’s focus shifted to the dried blood around his nose and upper lip. “The deal took a little longer than I expected.”

“Three hours and thirty eight minutes longer.”

“Yeah.” It sounded pretty fucking sorry to him. _Is that the best you can come up with, dickhead_?

He could see the tension through Adam’s shoulders, how he was already tapping his fingers against his thighs. Nigel wasn’t a stranger to spats or all out fights in a relationship. It wasn’t a real relationship if you didn’t fight. Fights meant there was fucking passion.

He thought he’d figured out the right things to say or do when it got bad. Sometimes all it took was holding Adam to him until he calmed down, or making that gross flower tea. He managed to convince him to drink a Moscow Mule once. Watched him screw his face up when it burned his throat, then sleep like the fucking dead for the rest of the night. Adam later admitted that he didn’t not like that drink.

Nigel just hadn’t expected the explosion of emotion. Adam rarely got to the point of shouting. He’d raised his voice a few times, mostly due to the dangerous nature of Nigel’s jobs or the smoking. Nigel couldn’t think of anything to do other than take it. Wait until Adam burned himself out or lost his voice.

He was content to take the abuse, or what came through the white noise buzzing in his ears from the coke slowly working it’s way out of his system. He understood enough to know Adam was having a hard time articulating what exactly he was upset about. It wasn’t just how late he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t call or text him. It wasn’t, though he wasn’t completely sure, it was the coke.

Part of him wanted to shout right back. Remind Adam that there was world outside this apartment, where not everyone had the opportunity to work at a cushy job they loved. Not everyone had that same privilege of wealthy parents and good schools. That what he did was all he was good at, and it brought in good fucking cash because he was good at it. He wanted to remind Adam where that money for the two week vacation in Germany came from. Just so Adam could be a guest speaker at Leibniz Institute for Astrophysics Potsdam. He sat through a three fucking hour panel, then played arm candy while Adam discussed shit that went over his head.

He’d opened his mouth to match Adam’s increasingly incoherent tirade, but the sound of skull meeting glass stopped the broiling retort in his throat. “Jesus, fuck, baby,” he grabbed Adam by the shoulders before he could hit the hallway mirror again.

“I hate you.” Adam said. His voice was hoarse and crackling against Nigel’s shoulder.  
“You don’t.” He squeezed Adam against him until he felt the kid relax a bit. The hot rigidness began to bleed out of his body, and Nigel was aware of how damp his shirt felt beneath Adam’s head. “Don’t you ever fucking hurt yourself like that again.” He felt the nod brush across his chest, and the raspy “okay” hot against the fabric.

His nose was itching, and he had to piss. Nigel pulled away just enough to smooth Adam’s curls from his forehead. There was an ugly red mark just over his left temple. It’d probably be tender for a few days, and bruise at the most. “Go to the bedroom, baby. I’ll get some tea and some aspirin for us both.”

“It’s almost time for breakfast.”

“Do you want breakfast?”

“No.”

Nigel released Adam and watched him go to their bedroom before he busied himself in the kitchen. While he waited for the kettle to boil he scrubbed at his nose with the dishrag. He blew snot and the rest of the shit caked up there into the sink and rinsed it down before wringing the rag out and hanging it back up. Adam would have a conniption if he knew, but whether or not what he did was hygienic was the furthest thing from his mind.

After the mugs had been filled and the little bags in place, Nigel made his way to the bedroom. His heart stuttered when he didn’t immediately see Adam on the bed, as he’d expected. In stead, the kid was wedged between the bed and the far wall. He was sitting with his back against the bed frame, staring out the window.

He sat beside him and listened to Adam try to explain the odd tightness in his chest, and grow more and more frustrated with himself as he tried to describe the symptoms. Adam only paused when Nigel held out the pill for him to swallow. “I was afraid when you didn’t come home. I wanted to call you, but I didn’t want your phone to go off if you were in danger. W-when you came home it just-it hurt.” Adam’s cheeks were flushed scarlet but his voice was gradually evening back out. “I was angry at you, but glad you were home and safe.”

“That’s love, gorgeous. Shit’s hard for anyone to describe.”


	3. The Wolf and the Wendigo (Hannigram)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My gift to oh-dr-lecter for the Hannigram Holiday Exchange

The forests back in Wolf Trap always felt new. Even in the winter, when most of the landscape behind his house was brown and bare, the pines always stood bright and fresh. Fewer there than the deep south, but still giving the forest little beacons of life even when their branches drooped heavy with ice.

Here the trees loomed, dark and towering. Despite the coziness of the cabin, the promise of warmth just behind the French doors, Will shivered despite the heavy parka. The forest that stretched out beyond felt alive and old. Even the lightest breeze caused the land to creak and groan. He whistled to the dog patrolling around the tool shed.

The long legged shepherd mix bounded up the winding steps to the deck. It waited by the door, tail swaying lazily for it’s new master to open it. He’d been called “Aldolfis” prior to Will convincing Hannibal to bring him home. It was the least he could do, as what was left of Aldofis’ former master sat in two tupperware containers to be reheated for lunch tomorrow.

Hannibal referred to the beast as “dog”: “No, dog”; “Will, please get _your_ dog.” To Will he was Griggs; my good boy; and on occasion, Boo. The dog, to his credit, responded well to all of his titles.

He followed the animal into the kitchen and refilled his water bowl. Some leftovers had been set next to the food dish on a small, rarely used, and appropriately ugly saucer. Will grinned as he retrieved the quickly cleaned dish and haphazardly placed it in the dishwasher.

When he squatted down he accepted the big head that thrust into his face. Dense fur and a cold nose. He missed his old pack, but this singular indulgence was worth Hannibal’s grumbling over ruined couch cushions and scratched leather. It was risky keeping him. Aldofis was posted prominently on their victim’s Facebook. He was a gorgeous wolf dog, unique, and more photogenic than his previous master. He wondered if the man’s niece would’ve wanted him. Even years after their faces stopped gracing news sites and Buzzfeed quizzes, Will still experienced lingering paranoia. Jack had long since retired, and Freddie Lounds was too busy with book signings.

As he stood, Will bent to kiss the dog between it’s honey eyes. “Go on,” he motioned with his hand towards the living room. Griggs had a new bed positioned near the hearth. Hannibal had picked it out so it wouldn’t clash with their upholstery. If he was to have a dog bed in his home, it would not be an eye sore. The bed soon collected toys, those too brought home by Hannibal. To keep your dog from ruining the table legs, he’d insisted. Will hadn’t believed a word. He’d seen how Hannibal played with him when he thought Will wasn’t watching.

Outside the motion light illuminated the deck. Will checked the locks and thought little more of it. Before he sought out his husband, and it still surprised him to think of Hannibal as such, he removed the heavy parka. Hanging it by the door, he spared a glance to the black trees that encircled their cabin. If he looked hard enough, the shadows would seem to move. Again he shivered and rubbed his pink tipped fingers vigorously against his sweatpants. He never looked very long.

He found Hannibal in bed. As they recovered from their fall, _his fall_ , he’d noticed Hannibal tended to go to bed early. While initially it was fatigue and Percocet that lured him to bed no later than ten, it’d become habit. As sleep rarely found him that quickly now, he’d read well past midnight.

“Hello Will.”

The voice eased the rest of the chill from his bones. “I thought you hated that one?” Will nodded to the offensive book.

“The story is predictable, and the author’s voice is overly pretentious-” Will interrupted with a snort. “However, I do not like leaving a story unfinished.”

Will shook his head as he pulled off his socks and left them on the floor. “So I’ve noticed.” He hid his smile as he joined Hannibal beneath the duvet and heavy quilt.

“Have you seen anything in the woods lately?” Will asked after he settled in. He tucked his feet beneath Hannibal’s calves, who no longer flinched at the sudden chill.

“I haven’t noticed.” He said and placed his thumb near a passage so he could give Will his attention. “Is there something I should be looking for?”

“Probably not. The sensor lights keep coming on. I’ll check the wiring in the morning.” He stifled a yawn, “Should we go to town for some ornaments tomorrow?”

Christmas had snuck up on them both. Will had been oblivious until Hannibal hung a wreath over the front door the day before last. A tree found it’s way into the living room, undecorated but for the small soft white lights Will had strung around it that morning. Griggs seemed to like looking at it, so Will had left it plugged in for the night.

Hannibal hummed a response, marking the page he’d held and setting it on the nightstand. The light clicked off, leaving the room only dimly illuminated by the tree through the doorway.  “It would be beneficial.”

“A yes would have been just as beneficial.” Will muttered, leaning up to kiss Hannibal’s bemused expression away.

Will was already drowsing when Hannibal moved to kiss his neck. It still sent a pleasant shiver down his spine and straight to his dick, despite his increasingly heavy eye lids. "Don’t start what you can’t finish,” he mumbled into Hannibal’s hair.

He could, and he did. Lazy, slow, and still incredible. Will felt as if he could melt through the mattress and drip onto the frigid hardwood beneath. His limbs warm and sluggish like Hannibal’s palm. When his sweat was starting to cool and left him shivering Hannibal got up. Will was content with letting Hannibal freeze his feet on the floor. Maybe I should install an in-floor heating system, he thought idly. It’d be expensive, but if he installed them himself, it’d save a good chunk of money. Not that they couldn’t afford the labor, Will simply wanted something to do with his hands. There were no boat motors to repair here. The people who owned boats, left them at their vacation homes in the south.

Returning a few minutes later, Hannibal had dressed in the grey flannels Will had picked up at the general store after Thanksgiving. He’d initially bought them for himself, but the pant legs were too long. After tripping down the deck stairs one time too many, he’d left them to live out their existence in the bottom of the laundry hamper.

A warm cloth was placed over his brow and wiped away the sweat gathered and chilly at his hairline. Will smiled fondly at the dim outline of Hannibal leaning over him. He truly loved the man, and could admit so to himself without guilt or repulsion.

Will awoke when Hannibal shook him. He hadn’t realized he’d fallen asleep. “Wha-“ he slurred, disoriented.

“I’ve found your mystery animal.”

Hannibal helped him out of bed, and he stumbled along behind him. He wished he’d put his socks on, or grabbed Hannibal’s slippers before following him to the kitchen. Griggs was already standing at the doors, ears forward and growling softly.

The dark shape in the snow sent a rush of cold to his gut. His heart hammered so violently that he wondered why Hannibal and Griggs didn’t notice. It wasn’t until the great head rose above the deck railing that he saw the wide flat expanse of antlers and laughed. There were no black feathers, no bloody points. He hadn’t realized he was shaking until Hannibal took his hand, rubbing his thumb in small circles over his skin.

The bull moose didn’t notice them, or simply chose to ignore them. It had a mouthful of dried mint dangling from it’s drooping muzzle. Hannibal had planted those earlier that year after digging up the spindly little box shrubs the previous owners had placed around the perimeter of the deck. They watched as the animal demolished the neat little row of brown, dormant herbs.

“We’ll have to watch Griggs when he goes out from now on,” Will said. His voice still held some tremble, but the panic was gone. While there was the fear that the stag would return, he doubted it would ever come again. No longer did he dream of monsters.


	4. The Dress (Spacedogs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From @acemattmrdck’s list: Established Relationship - Nigel buying Adam this dress for his birthday (or just for fun.)

“It’s a dress.”

“Yes it is, baby.”

“Did they send you the wrong item?”

“No.”

Adam frowned at the navy blue dress spread out on their bed. “Why’d you order a dress?”

“I want to see you wear it.” Nigel said from the window. He leaned against the frame blowing smoke out the narrow crack. This was their compromise: He could smoke in the house, as long as Adam never had to smell it.

“I can’t wear this to work.”

“I didn’t buy it for your to wear to fucking work, gorgeous. You remember what I told you about lingerie?”

“That it’s not really for the person wearing it. Yes, Nigel, I remember.”

Picking up the dress, Adam held in in front of himself. “Those constellations aren’t in the right position. Draco would never appear-”

“Just put the fucking dress on, Adam, baby, _please_.”

Draping the dress back across the end of the bed, Adam began removing his clothes. He was very aware at how Nigel watched him, and how he no longer paid attention to their rule. The acrid odor of cigarette smoke made him wrinkle his nose and cough. “The window,” he said as he stepped out of his jeans.

“Mama dracului,” Nigel flicked the half smoked cigarette out the window. Adam was pulling the dress over his head, struggling to get his shoulders past the waistline. He wanted to tell him to pull it up from his feet, up those skinny bird legs, but the fact that Adam was even trying this prevented him from making any comments.

“Could you help zip it up?” Adam had his back to Nigel, his pale skin exposed in a tempting wide V. He almost considered pulling it off him right then and bending him over the end of the bed. There’d be no fucking point in buying the thing if they couldn’t appreciate it first. He swore under his breath when his fingers trembled against the zipper.

He spun Adam around to face him and stepped back. The dress just barely came to his knees, and appeared to be more than a bit snug around the shoulders. He hadn’t been able to fasten the little button at the top, shaking fingers or no. He’d have to partially unzip it if Adam needed to take a deep breath. “Gorgeous.”

“You say that even when I’m in pajamas.” A blush was starting to creep across Adam’s nose and spread over his cheeks.

“I do.” He pulled Adam by the waist. “You’re gorgeous in everything you wear. This particularly. God, I want to fuck you in this dress.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?” Nigel sputtered, fully expecting Adam to insist on removing the dress to avoid getting it dirty. He was always very careful with gifts, even the ones he didn’t like.

“Yes. I wanted to have sex tonight, and you enjoy seeing me in this dress. So we both get what we want.”


	5. Reverse (Spacedogs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anon: ARE YOU TAKING PROMPTS? THEY'VE BEEN TOGETHER FOR A WHILE NOW. ADAM WANTS TO HAVE SEX BUT DOESN'T REALLY KNOW HOW TO ASK NIGEL FOR IT. NIGEL IS DELIGHTED AT HIS ATTEMPTS THO.

It was always a mystery as to what state Nigel would show up when he was away for business. Sometimes he reeked of stale cigarette smoke, cheap perfume, or whiskey and vomit. Sometimes he reeked of all of those things at once. Sometimes he was still drunk, or on the rare occasion coming down from a coke high. Adam had a routine for each scenario now, and body wipes for the times Nigel couldn’t be convinced to have a shower before crawling into bed.

Adam watched his breath puff out in wispy clouds. The cabin they rented for the weekend had a wraparound porch with a mismatched deck furniture. Nigel had picked the place for the view, and Adam had found the best vantage point.

The first night he pulled the chaise almost to the edge of the deck. From there the roof overhang didn’t obscure the view of the stars scattered across the sky. There was minimal light pollution, and the two other cabins were unoccupied. They had the mountainside to themselves, or did, until Nigel got a call that afternoon.

“An emergency,” he explained, kissing Adam’s curls as he hurriedly gathered up the keys and the Beretta. “I’ll be back soon, baby.”

When he had taken the extra clip, Adam no longer expected “soon” to be when Nigel would return. So he had made dinner for himself and watched something from their instant queue on his laptop. Adam couldn’t concentrate enough to even begin to describe the plot. It was loud, with lots of gunfire. Something Nigel had put on the list between nature documentaries and true crime.

He drummed his fingers along his biceps, counting the constellations he could see so clearly out here. The chilled air had his cheeks pink, and burned his lungs when he took a deep breath. It was starting to seep through the thick sweater and raise goosebumps across his limbs.

The throw was inside, so was his jacket. He preferred Nigel’s; how the leather creaked pleasantly when he moved his arms, and how buttery soft if felt beneath his fingers. Nigel’s jacket was with Nigel though, and Adam didn’t want to leave the stars. Leaving the stars meant his mind would fixate on what was taking so long.

He found himself repeating constellations and sighed. Taurus shone above him, unable to placate the intrusive thoughts that hummed in the back of his mind. Nigel had told him not to worry, but it didn’t mean Adam wouldn’t. He could find little distractions to keep his mind busy, but it only lasted so long. His thoughts inevitably started to wander from the tasks he’d given himself to how much time had passed since Nigel had left the driveway.

After repeating Monoceros for the third time, Adam made the decision to try and start his bedtime routine. He’d hoped to try an ask Nigel for sex tonight after a quiet, relaxing evening. He’d wanted to ask to top for some time, but Nigel rarely gave him the chance. Always touching, grabbing, and practically smothering him. Nigel possessed a confidence he didn’t.

He pushed the chaise back to it’s spot to the left of the door when a _thump bump_ came from the side of the house. Adam felt his heart race, remembering the landowner’s warning about bears when they got the keys.

He gripped the door handle fiercely, ready to flee into the cabin.The second scuffling bump was followed with a grumbled, very human, and distinctly Romanian string of curses. 

Nigel stopped when he noticed Adam standing in the rectangle of light. “Hey, baby. Shouldn’t you be in bed?” 

He’d checked his watch before pulling onto the winding path that led to the cabin. It was just past 1:30AM. Even if Adam tried to wait up, which on occasion, he did; he rarely made it past midnight before the need to start his evening routine took over. It was a coping mechanism. He’d read that somewhere.

“I was watching the stars. I want to set up the telescope tomorrow.” His breath puffed in the cold, and his fingertips had long since lost sensation.

“We’ll do that, gorgeous.” Nigel crossed the distance between them and took Adam’s freezing fingers. “But if you’re going to stay out here tonight, you need some gloves and a coat before your fingers fucking freeze off.”

“Fingers don’t freeze off,” Adam said, more to himself as he was lead back inside. The sudden rush of warm air made his cheeks and ears prickle. “I was planning on getting ready for bed before you scared me.”

“Scared you?”

“Oh yes.” Adam watched while Nigel rubbed his fingers between his palms to warm them. The tips were still red and chilled. “I thought you were a bear until I heard you start swearing.”

When Nigel laughed, Adam drew his brows together in confusion before the realization of what he said dawned on him. The fleeting, and embarrassing memory surfaced of the woman who approached Adam at the cafe.

The woman who referred to Nigel as a “bear” was surprisingly accurate. Adam, who typically didn’t like anthropomorphizing animals, now could imagine that living with an overly affectionate bear would not be dissimilar to living with Nigel. A bear wouldn’t stink of cigarettes and vodka sweats though.

“Is something bothering you, baby? You’re normally more talkative.”

“Wha-oh, no, yes. No, nothing.”

Nigel’s brows rose. “You’re making that face when there’s something on your mind. So let’s hear it, or it’ll keep you up all fucking night.”

In a stuttering flood of words Adam told him. He expected Nigel to interrupt, refuse, or go to the porch to smoke. He didn’t expect him to stand still for the verbal torrent with an expression Adam found very difficult to read. He’d never seen Nigel with that look. It wasn’t angry, but it also wasn’t happy. It was somewhere between concentration and that lost look he got when he drank too much.

“You want to fuck me?”

Adam nodded. “I’ve wanted to ask you for a while, but everything I thought of sounded too silly.”

“You could’ve just asked, baby. It’s no different from when I ask.”

“But you might say no.”

“So could you. I still take that fucking risk. And I didn’t say no.”

“S-so that’s a yes?”

“Having a cock up my ass isn’t exactly on my list of things I want to try, but since that cock is attached to you, I’ll give it a shot.”

Nigel was willing to try. Adam found himself both excited and terrified; maybe a little nauseated. When he began to tell Nigel about prepping for anal sex he was gripped by the shoulders. “Baby, please,  _please_ stop talking about fucking douching and go to the den. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

 

Nigel stood in the bathroom and stared at the countertop. He thought about shaving, but they’d forgotten the electric razor. In his rush to get back he hadn’t thought about stopping at the Seven-Eleven for a pack of disposables.

Adam’s stubble had finally grown out enough that he’d stopped scratching his chin raw in his sleep. It sharpened his features and made him look a little closer to his actual age. It also went straight to Nigel’s dick. He hoped he could convince Adam to keep it, figure out how to incorporate just trimming into his routine.

Nigel’s own beard just made him feel old. There was more gray in it than he remembered when he last let it grow out.

He rubbed his hand over his face and groaned. Thinking about Adam’s facial hair and the lack of a razor wasn’t getting him ready. He was procrastinating, and damn well knew it. Fuck it, he thought. Man the fuck up. Get the unpleasant part over with and find out what it’s like, shit head.

Adam has wanted to try this, apparently for a while now, and if Nigel was truly honest with himself; he did too. If it wasn’t pleasurable, Adam would’ve said something. His lovely, honest to a fault, darling.

It was some fucked up sense of masculinity that kept him skirting around the subject. If he was going to take it up the ass, he’d like it to be Adam doing the honors. The kid did his research. The kid also had a dopp bag with everything he needed sitting under the sink.

It couldn’t be worse than that fucking colonoscopy and MRI he had done last month. Fucking bullshit stressing over nothing.

 

When Nigel appeared in the doorway Adam could tell he was nervous, and a nervous Nigel tended to be surly. “Look, if we’re doing this, you don’t tell anyone-“

“Why would I tell anyone about what we do when we have sex?”

“Not a fucking soul.”

“I don’t understand why I would, but okay, Nigel. Um, h-how do you want to do this?”

“I don’t give a shit, as long as I can fucking see you.” He gestured vaguely to his face before shoving his hands into the pockets of his sweatpants.

Adam rubbed his hands up and down his thighs. The sight of Nigel in nothing but low slung sweatpants, still ruddy across his nose, stirred his arousal. “Well, it’ll be difficult to do anything with you standing over there.”

A string of curses followed Nigel to the couch as he flopped next to Adam. “If you don’t feel comfortable doing this, we don’t have to.”

“I’m just being- _încăpăţânat_? I don’t- fucking, bullheaded, baby. I want to do this for you, just-“

“You’re nervous.”

Nigel sighed, “yeah.”

“I was just as nervous the first time we had penetrative sex.” Adam said, straddling Nigel as he lay back on the couch.

“You were shaking like a fucking leaf, and you got overstimulated. Shit. I never thought I’d get you to calm down.”

“But you did.”

Nigel released a breathy laugh, “yeah I fucking did, and kept it up the whole time too.”

With a snort, Adam reached over to the coffee table for a packet of lube. “It wasn’t the sex, or your ability to keep it up that calmed me down. It was you. Just knowing it was you there really helped, because I liked you.”

“Fucking liked?”

“Well, at that time I didn’t know if I loved you or not.” Adam shrugged and began to pull Nigel’s sweatpants down his hips. “I didn’t really understand what love was. I still don’t, but love is the best word I can find that relates to my feelings for you.” He glanced up, “Sorry. I’m talking too much.”

“No, baby, please keep talking.”

“About what?”

“Anything. Fucking anything. _Not_ douching.”

“It isn’t one of the most pleasant experiences, but the results are worth the effort for both parties.”

“ _Fu_ -hygiene.”

“Exactly.” Adam paused, feeling Nigel tense when he tore open the packet of lube. “I’m glad you rented this place. We forgot so many things. I didn’t even have my cereal.” He brushed a slick finger against him as he spoke waiting until he felt Nigel relax.

“I don't like eggs, or pancakes. I hated not shaving, but I liked the way you looked at me. It really itched, and it feels weird against my pillow.” He’d gotten his index finger in up to his knuckle.

“It looks fucking wonderful on you, baby.”

When Adam withdrew his finger to prepare for the second, he pulled his sweater off. His pants and briefs followed before he recoated his fingers. He initially thought grabbing four packets had been excessive, but it dried so quickly on his fingers after being exposed to air.

“I’m starting to understand the appeal. I like your’s as well.” He experimentally scissored his fingers inside Nigel. He arched beneath him, inhaling sharply through his nose. “I like how it looks like stripes.”

“ _Fuck_ , like a tiger?”

“Yes.” When he curled his fingers Nigel cried out.

“Do that shit agin.”

Adam couldn’t stop grinning, he was proud that he’d gotten that reaction from Nigel. Let alone a request to continue doing it. He kept it up until he was certain Nigel was pliant enough for sex.

He tore open the third packet and slicked himself. “I’m glad you get me to try new things,” he said, easing into Nigel, who sucked in air brought his teeth. “Even if I don’t seem appreciative at the time. I’m also not sure how long I can keep focusing on talking. Is it okay if I don’t?”

Nigel’s grunted “ _god damn”_ was as close to an answer as Adam got.

It was different from his experience with Beth. Not better, not worse, just different. A different heat, a different tightness. Beneath him Nigel wasn’t soft, not all of him.

He was satisfied with this position. While he personally enjoyed being on his stomach with Nigel pressing him into the mattress; this allowed him to see Nigel’s expressions. Nigel was very easy to read during sex. 

The other man apparently had something else in mind. The shift pushed Adam back to sit on his heels as Nigel came to rest on his lap. Adam moaned into Nigel’s shoulder, feeling the older man all but envelope him. The angle, the tightness, it was bordering on too much.

He focused on the sound of Nigel’s voice and the sound of skin against skin.

 

They met each other thrust for thrust as Nigel set his own pace. He saw the appeal, felt it when Adam hit that spot that made his vision go white for a second. His lovely Adam gripping his hips fiercely enough to bruise and gasping against his neck.

Fuck whatever anyone else said, this was getting put into their regular routine. He already set to blow his fucking load and a finger hadn’t so much as touched his dick. This new position, however, let him rut against Adam’s smooth belly.

“Fucking Christ, baby.” Nigel groaned into damp curls. He pressed tighter, using the friction of their bodies flush to bring himself closer to the edge. 

He’d never came like this, hot and slick against Adam’s skin. The kid gasped his name as he clenched around him. He rode him through his own orgasm, though his thighs felt like jelly. 

His limbs were pleasantly heavy when they stilled. They remained like that for a moment. He felt his thighs shaking from the effort, like he’d just run a fucking marathon.

Adam still had his face firmly nestled against his neck, his breathing evening out in hot puffs. He would’ve been content to remain like this but their sweat was cooling, his cum was drying in his chest hair, and the kid’s knees were digging into his ass.

“How was it?” Adam asked as they gathered up their strewn clothes after untangling themselves.

“Different,” he said and saw the kid’s face fall. “Not a bad different, baby. You were fucking wonderful. Hey,” he reached over and pulled Adam to him. His arm firmly encircling his shoulder as he steered Adam towards the bathroom. “If you ever want to try this again, just ask. Shit, I might just ask you. You’d like that, huh? Filthy thing.”

Adam ducked his head as a blush flared bright across his cheeks. “I would like that.”


	6. Routine (Spacedogs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A werewolf AU for Spacedogs Week.

_As long as you keep to a schedule nothing can surprise you_. Adam’s father taught him the importance of keeping to a strict routine. It gave him a sense of normalcy. He wasn’t too anxious, and he wasn’t dangerous. There was no risk of him being somewhere he wasn’t supposed to be when his time rolled around. Every month at 8:56 PM. If he was stressed, at 8:30 PM. 

On lazy nights with Nigel, 9:13 PM.

The alarm beeped on Adam’s wristwatch and Nigel put his cigarette out on the windowsill. He blew the stream of smoke through the narrow opening before locking it. While he began packing the bottled waters, he saw Adam rummaging through the coat closet. He smiled to himself when Adam slipped Nigel’s leather bomber over his sweater. He’d wear the windbreaker tonight. It wasn’t like he’d need it for long.

“Fifty four minutes,” Adam chimed from the bedroom.

“Did you pack socks, baby?”

There was a pause and Nigel could hear the drawer rattle. “Yes.”

“Extra underwear?”

“Yes,” Adam said from the doorway. He held out the duffle bag for Nigel. In went an old grocery tote straining with supplies. Adam would complain he packed too much, but Nigel would rather have too much than too little. As an afterthought, he tossed in extra packs of granola bars for himself. 

Adam wouldn’t eat until they got home, though Nigel longed to try a few of the diners they’d pass along the way. He’d be happy with drive-thru if it meant he didn’t have to power through another bowl of bran flakes because he was too lazy to make cream of wheat.

 

They took the Camry out of the city. The duffle bag was tossed onto the backseat. Adam had wanted it in the trunk, but Nigel argued that it’d be safer to have it within easy reach. He itched for a cigarette but the pack was sitting next to the Keurig in the apartment. He still patted his shirt pocket out of habit and swore under his breath. Nine hours without a smoke. He was going to be a jittery mess by the time they get home.

The city lights faded as the landscape began to alternate between patches of forest and fields. Nigel pulled down a side road, grimacing as the car rumbled down the muddy track. He’d have to take the car to be washed tomorrow. He’d rather do it himself, but the landlord tried to fine him for water damage last time. Fucking water damage to fucking concrete covered with fucking oil stains. It was such utter bullshit that even Adam found the absurdity of it. His sweet Adam who preferred rules and regulations.

He cut the engine once they reached the log across the path. The only lights were from the dim LED displays and the bright moon peeking between the trees. Adam’s soft features were washed with faint green. “You ready, baby?”

Adam nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt. Without a word he got out of the car, with Nigel following shortly behind. He held out his arms while Adam mechanically removed his clothes. He lingered for a moment before placing his socks on top of the pile. Nigel deposited them next to the duffle bag, “I’ll fold them before you change back,” he assured him. “Now drink some water, so you don’t end up blowing fucking macaroni out your nose.”

The watch beeped on the clothes pile as Adam finished the bottle of water. His hands trembled as he handed the empty plastic back to Nigel, who would put it back in the bag to be recycled.

Adam was shivering next to him, hugging himself tightly. It was fucking freezing. Nigel rubbed his hands up and down Adam’s arms, all too aware of how the wind cut right through his track pants. “You’ll be warm soon,” he said, kissing Adam’s fevered brow. “And I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He squeezed Adam to him until the kid unfurled his arms and clung to him. His body was getting warmer, his skin starting to develop a sheen of sickly sweat despite the goosebumps that covered his limbs. “Alright, baby, I’m getting into the car.”

He felt Adam nod against his chest, reluctant to release him. “6:30,” he mumbled.

“I got the watch with me.”

“Don’t fall asleep again.”

Nigel chuckled, “I’ll try not to.”

“I packed the Kindle for you. I charged it la-“ Adam vomited down the front of Nigel’s pants before he could finish the sentence.

Nigel rubbed his back until he felt the muscles beneath his palm shift. The transformation is quick. Quicker than movies made it out to be, but it sounded so much worse. It wasn’t dissimilar to the wet crack of deboning raw chicken. He shook the bulk of the mess off his pants and shut himself in the car before the worst of it began.

Nigel held his breath as the wolf stood on shaking legs. He never watched the transformation. It looked like it hurt, and he couldn’t stand the tightness in his chest that came with seeing Adam in pain. His Adam was no longer the slender, timid man who got out of the car less than ten minutes ago. The wolf, if Nigel were stupid enough to get out, would be a good foot taller than him. The moonlight made his curly brown mane black and his blue eyes reflect red.

He watched the wolf turn in a circle, getting it’s bearings. Adam paused, his head tilted upward. Nigel smiled to himself. Even has a werewolf, Adam couldn’t resist the stars.

When he’d first met Adam, or rather first realized what made Adam vanish one night out of the month, he was a mess. A bundle of nerves that locked himself away in a 10’X8’ room. Before his dad got sick, Adam had explained, they would go on a monthly camping trip.

Werewolves were like any other animal, they needed space to run. Even people can’t spend their lives in a box without going insane. So Nigel found a secluded piece of land that was easily accessible by car. Adam naturally didn’t like the idea to begin with, especially when Nigel admitted to not knowing who the landowner was. “It’s dangerous,” he argued.

“What’s the difference between this and camping?” Nigel had countered. “You’re just as likely to run into some unlucky bastard here than you were there.”

It still took another month of convincing on his part. Adam fought him on every point until Nigel showed him a photo of the stars. He took Adam the night before his next change and they’d laid out on the hood of the car until Nigel’s snoring prompted Adam to suggest they head back, or Nigel wouldn’t be able to drive home safely.

The wolf vanished into the dense brush, and Nigel released a shuddering breath. While Adam recognized the stars, he was hesitant to test his theory that his darling could recognize him. While the thought was romantic, there would be only two outcomes to that scenario.

He cleaned his pants with the wipes Adam had packed, and then tried to read. His fingers were trembling so badly he kept turning the pages before he was finished. Frustrated, he put the Kindle back in the bag and rubbed his face. A headache was starting to form behind his eyes and he wanted a smoke.

He snacked on the granola bars, trying to keep himself awake. Soon he began to doze on and off, waking with a start at every sound. He’d promised Adam he wouldn’t fall asleep, but a nap here and there wouldn’t hurt. He’d rather risk Adam standing out in the cold for a little bit than falling asleep behind the wheel and killing them both. Safety fucking first.

He must have fallen asleep, because he was jolted awake when the car rocked beneath him. Initially he thought he was dreaming because he was staring at the wolf fucking feet from his own face. A quick glance at his phone showed there was still thirty minutes before Adam changed back. A lot could happen between now and thirty minutes. He didn’t doubt the wolf was strong enough to break the windshield if it was so inclined.

All those documentaries said not to panic when faced with a large predator. You either stand your ground, make yourself seem larger and more aggressive, or back away slowly. Nigel couldn’t do either effectively inside the cramped sedan. So he opted to freeze, and hope Adam would lose interest.

Up close he could get a good look at the wolf. Adam still had those beautiful blue-green eyes he’d fallen so hard for. The Howling almost got it right, but those wolves were too hairy, too spindly. Fuck all they knew. 

Silver didn’t do shit either, he found out. He’d bought Adam a ring a few months back, silver, without thinking until Adam slipped it on. That silver ring was still on, he could see it glimmer in the dim light on the claw tipped finger.

When Adam’s hands pressed against the windshield, Nigel’s heart began to pound in earnest. This is fucking it, he thought. Instead, Adam just peered into the car, head turned to one side to get a closer look. His breath fogged the glass.

Despite how his hands shook, Nigel pressed one hand to the windshield. It was stupid, but he figured if Adam was going to tear him to pieces, he’d have done so already. Adam jerked back for a moment, and Nigel heart skipped a beat. Before he could withdraw his hand, Adam placed his own over it.

With a nervous laugh, Nigel moved his hand, splaying his fingers wide. Adam did the same. Those blue-green eyes were bright, and ears forward. He knew enough about wolves from National Geographic to recognize that expression. So they kept up the game until the sun washed away the stars.

Adam seemed to lose interest, grimacing as he stepped off the hood of the car. Nigel watched long enough to see the wolf appear to deflate and cave in on itself. He turned away, busying himself with gathering a bottle of water and the comfortable post change clothes Adam had picked out: A pair of pajama pants, his trunks, and one of Nigel’s threadbare sweatshirts.

He waited, listening. He couldn’t hear the snap of bone, so he dared to open the door. Adam sat on his knees next to the driver’s side tire, heaving. Gathering him up, Nigel pulled Adam onto his lap, ignoring the damp gravel soaking through his pants. He held onto him until he only shivered from the cold. “Welcome back, gorgeous.”

“Why am I so close to the car?”

“I guess you wanted to make sure I kept my promise of staying awake.”

“Did you?”

“Nope, but you made sure I was fucking up.”

He helped Adam dress, and wiped his feet off before handing him a pair of thick wool socks. Adam all the while tried to tell him what he remembered before it all faded away; the stars he saw; the deer he chased. He didn’t know about the game they played before dawn, so Nigel filled in the gap.

He’d forgotten to fold Adam’s clothes.

They stopped to get breakfast at a drive-thru along the way. Nigel using the lack of sleep as an excuse. Adam was too hungry to complain about the deviation in his schedule, and Nigel sorely needed the coffee. They ate in the parking lot to avoid Adam having an anxiety attack over him trying to eat and pay attention to the road.

Adam shoved the overly greasy, limp bacon slices into his mouth as if they were the best thing in the world. Not once did he make any mention of his cereal as he moved to the hot cakes. He tore into them with fingers still too stiff to maneuver the plastic spork left in the wrapper.

Nigel watched him clear his plate before he’d managed to eat half of his egg and cheese biscuit. He held out the uneaten half and let Adam finish it off. “I’ll find something else when we get home, baby.” He assured him.

 

When they pulled back into the garage, Nigel slung the bag across his back and lifted Adam into his arms. While Adam could make it back up to the apartment, he knew it was rough on his joints. Nigel’s joints could stand the abuse. He didn’t turn into the creature his bunicuţă told stories about to make him go to bed on time. Though she got most of the features wrong. Adam didn’t have a unibrow or a pentagram on his palms. He also didn’t own a wolf skin belt, as far as Nigel knew.

He sat Adam on the couch and began to unpack their supplies. He’d packed too much once again, and felt Adam’s grin between his shoulders as he put away the seven unused bottles of water.

“I remembered your face.” Adam said when he finished shoving the duffle bag back into the coat closet.

“Yeah?”

“When I woke up all I could think about was how you shouldn’t have been asleep. Even before you told me.”

Nigel pulled Adam’s feet onto his lap. “Maybe one of these days, I can be out there with you.”

“Oh that would be very unsafe.”

“Who’d have thought, Adam Raki, the baddest motherfucker in New York.” He grinned as a blush spread rapidly across Adam’s cheeks and down his neck.

“I’m certain there are other wolves larger and more aggressive than I am in this state.”

“Well I don’t fucking know any.” He pulled Adam closer, careful of how sore he was.


	7. Repose (Hannigram)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drabble based on a prompt sent to Meduszoa, found here: http://meduszoa.tumblr.com/post/139788801068/hannigram-headcanon-despite-years-together

Their lives were both blissful and irritatingly simple. The cabin was on the outskirts of Tremblant. It was far enough away to give them privacy, but close enough that they could get supplies. It was a touristy area, catering to skiers and skiers’ families. People who wore expensive down coats, and equally expensive boots camouflaged Hannibal.

Will remained at the cabin or wandered the surrounding forest. The cold made his jaw ache and his shoulder stiff. The swarms of people provoked panic attacks at the worst moments. A booming voice, a flash of red hair, it all could set his heart racing and numb his hands.

So he read. Hannibal would often return with a variety of books. The books were more reassuring than any words said to calm him. They were a promise that Hannibal would care for him, but not overwhelm him.

The cabin lacked a television, so keeping an eye on their status meant relying on the laptop and tablet. The wifi was slow at best, and more than one article left abandoned to buffering.

Will read and Hannibal drew. It passed the time in comfortable silence, or would if Will hadn’t felt eyes on him. It made the hair on his neck stand and prickled down his spine. He figured most people would be flattered to be the subject of art, but Will just felt self conscious. He’d seen the results laying around on side tables and Hannibal’s desk; far too beautiful to be him.

To combat this, Will would slump into unflattering poses. He hoped this would force Hannibal to recreate him more true to life. He was no Patroclus, and certainly no Leda.

He’d hear the sigh: a short, soft exhalation through Hannibal’s nose. Still, it wouldn’t stop the scratching on pencil over paper. It didn’t stop the drawings littering the house, which now featured Will in a variety of slouching poses. He liked these, they looked more like him. They had folds, wrinkles, and cellulite.

It seemed Hannibal enjoyed these as well. The familiar scrape of graphite wouldn’t begin until Will had figured out his new position.


	8. Let It Out (Spacedogs)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small series of vignettes inspired by the Spacedogs chat group: FtM Nigel/Pegging/Adam buys women's udnerwear

**i**

Brands were important. Nigel learned early on that buying a cheaper version of organic macaroni and cheese meant it’d sit on the shelf until he ate it himself. It didn’t matter if the store brand had the exact same ingredients. It didn’t taste the same, Adam said.

Nigel thought that was bullshit. It all tasted the same to him.

“Smoking alters your sense of taste,” Adam explained when he brought it up over breakfast. Four boxes sat on the shelf, having been pushed towards the back by new boxes of the brand Adam liked.

“Guess it does,” Nigel muttered around the unlit cigarette between his lips. He didn’t light it until he was next to the window. He leaned against the frame and watched Adam finish his cereal.

He’d tried to stop smoking after getting involved with Adam. Several times, and it all ended with Adam buying him a pack. Patches, gum, pills; none of it helped. While it did curb his cravings, it left him irritable and snappy.

He hated it. Hated smoking because it hurt Adam’s lungs, and hated not smoking because it hurt Adam’s feelings. Nigel exhaled a lungful through the crack in the window and watched it dissipate.

The last time he attempted to quit had ended in an argument over the type of soda he brought home. After Adam had barricaded himself in the bedroom Nigel realized how stupid he had been. Fucking yelling at Adam over goddamn soda that he could just drink himself. It tasted worlds better than that shit craft beer he kept at the back of the fridge.

When he had woke up the next morning there was a pack of cigarettes on the coffee table. Adam had deviated from his morning routine just to go get cigarettes for him. It should be insulting that Adam wasn’t supportive of his desire to quit, but that gesture meant more than any “I love you” could. Adam didn’t like change, and trying to quit Nigel wasn’t the same as pack-a-day Nigel.

Still, he had made some progress. He allowed himself a maximum of five cigarettes a day: Morning, after lunch, midday, dinner, and before bed. “Don’t remind me if I skip any, baby,” he had to explain to Adam. Yes, it was a routine, but if he missed one he wanted to miss one and not notice.

“Oh. Okay, Nigel.” And that was that.

 

**ii**

Adam had rinsed the bowl out and placed it in the dishwasher as Nigel finished the last drag. The house needed vacuuming, he thought as Adam left for the bathroom. Particularly the foyer where he tracked in dirt and leaves from his evening jogs. The windows need cleaning too, he reminded himself when the light caught on the streaks their fingers had left behind.

He coughed and spit into the sink.

With the white noise of the shower spray crackling down the hall, Nigel packed a light snack for Adam. Today there was a luncheon with his coworkers, some bullshit about team building or relations. Nigel decided he would need a little something in case there was nothing on the menu he wanted to try.

He hoped there wouldn’t be a phone call, or Adam coming home early. It’d been a while since his last meltdown, and he’d made so much progress with his social life. Hell, Nigel managed to take him on several very successful dates. One of which ended with him on his knees behind the brasserie with that delightful cock down his throat. So he sliced a pink lady apple and packed it with a packet of almond butter and a bag of mixed nuts.

They’d sat together in the kitchen the night before and picked out all of the cashews. He didn’t mind the tedious task, cashews were his favorite.

A few weeks back Nigel had been struck with the thought of being a house wife. Darko had said as such in a text. It was a joke, but the implication had put Nigel in a foul mood. It wasn’t until he realized the only person who gendered the task was him. Adam certainly didn’t think of him that way, nor Darko. Shit, Darko didn’t even know that aspect of him unless Gabi had suddenly decided to be spiteful.

He shook it away easier now. 

The warm lavender scent of Adam greeted him with arms around his waist. Nigel had just finished cleaning the counter and turned around to see him smiling. He kissed him, and nuzzled into the still damp curls before handing off the bag with: “Call me if you need me.”

“I’ll try not to.”

“Good.”

 

**iii**

Nigel had fallen asleep on the couch shortly after lunch. The house was vacuumed, the windows were clean, and the last load of laundry was in the dryer. He checked his phone for any missed calls, and thankfully all he’d missed was a text from Darko. 

He’d need his answer by Saturday. That left Nigel with this evening and tomorrow to talk to Adam. 

Gathering up the garbage and the empty leftover containers, he took it out to the bin. It was fairly cool for the afternoon, so he sat on the porch steps for a cigarette and a little sun. This was only the second he’d had today, and he was fucking proud of himself for it.

A car pulled up as he was grinding the filter against the bricks. It was Adam’s coworker Carol. At least that’s what he thought was her name. To be honest, he didn’t know them all well enough to really put faces and names together. Either way, she looked like shit warmed over and gave him a halfhearted wave as Adam got out.

“I hope you feel better soon.” He said and watched her back out before greeting Nigel.

“You’re home early. Did everything go alright?”

“O-oh yes. The luncheon was-it was fun. There wasn’t anything I wanted to eat, but I enjoyed the conversations.” Adam leaned into Nigel as he was pulled into a hug. He wrinkled his nose at the lingering traces of smoke that clung to his shirt. “Everyone who ordered the chicken got food poisoning though.”

“How many got the chicken?”

“Everyone but Jennifer and myself.”

Nigel laughed, but stopped when he saw Adam’s expression. “Sorry, baby. I’m not laughing at the fact they’re sick. Just the absurdity of it.” He smoothed Adam’s hair back and kissed his forehead, “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

He followed Adam into the house. He wanted to get the laundry folded and sorted, knowing soon Adam would probably want to tell him about the luncheon in detail. 

He was almost to the kitchen when Adam suddenly said: “Oh! Nigel, how was your day?”

“I kept myself busy. Cleaned the house, did the laundry, ate the last of that fried rice you kept pushing to the back of the fridge.”

“They forgot to not put peas in it. And you could have waited until Saturday, then we could’ve done it together.”

Nigel shrugged, “I didn’t have anything better to do, but if you want to help with something, Darko has a proposition.”

Adam frowned at the name. “What sort of proposition? It’s not illegal is it?”

“For once, no. You know anything about cam shows and servers and shit?”

“Cam sho-oh! Yes. I know what those are. _Darko_ wants to do cam shows?”

“He wants to hire girls to do it, love. I doubt Darko could pull in viewers.”

“Not everyone likes looking at women.”

“True, but for now he wants girls to start with. Darko knows fuck all about computers, and I’m no better-“

“You’ve gotten more proficient. You’ve stopped saving files to the desktop.”

“Thanks. Anyway, he wanted to know if you’d help run it. The computer side of it.”

Adam chewed his bottom lip. “Can I think about it?”

“Of course, baby. Darko’s going to call Saturday after dinner, so figure out what questions you want to ask him about it.”

“Okay. Nigel?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d really like to have sex.”

 

**iv**

Nigel found himself on his back biting the meat of his hand. What Adam lacked in finesse he made up for in sheer enthusiasm and thorough determination. That determination was currently leaving end-of-the-day stubble burn on his inner thighs.

It had been a lot of trial and error on his part when they’d first got together. Adam had tried to do research, but later admitted there was very little pornography that featured transmen. At least that he could find. Nigel didn’t tell him that to find it, he’d need to search some rather distasteful terms.

Even Nigel was still learning what he liked. He’d never expected to end up with someone like Adam, much less be willing to have a cock up his ass.

Adam, however, seemed to have other ideas at the moment. Nigel groaned when his fingers pulled away, followed shortly by his mouth. He watched Adam cross the room to the closet, pausing only to pick up their clothes and put them in the hamper. It never ceased to make him grin: Adam, ready to go and fucking hard, stopping to tidy up.

“What are you looking for, gorgeous?”  
Adam hummed as he pushed through Nigel’s sock drawer. “That feeldoe you got. I’d um-I’d like you to f-fuck me. If that’s okay?”

“ _Fuck_ , yeah, that’s certainly okay, baby. Second drawer.”

Adam, his sweet fucking genius, had modified it for him. When he’d first bought the thing, he realized it was for people with significantly smaller bits of anatomy than he had. Their first attempt to use it resulted in a bruised head and irritated foreskin. To remedy this, Adam created a well lined with TPE. With a little lube, it mimicked the sensation of penetration.

Nigel had lasted less than ten minutes the first time they tried it.

When he fished the bottle of lube from the nightstand, Nigel handed it over to Adam. With a kiss, he told him he wanted to watch. Adam flushed scarlet but took the bottle without hesitation. While Nigel leaned back against the headboard, Adam stretched himself while straddling his knees. As he moved to his second finger, Nigel reached down to stroke himself. He knew very well the visual excited Adam, especially when he dipped him fingers down and curled them into himself.

Adam pulled his hand away and bent forward, taking Nigel into his mouth. His tongue circled the head as he blindly felt for the feeldoe with his free hand. He gave one last hard suck and nipped lightly at the foreskin, drawing a groan from Nigel before sitting up.

He watched as Adam slid the bulb of the feeldoe into him. “ _Fucking Christ_ , _if you keep this up I’m going to cum before you get on it_.” he said, not having realized he’d lapsed into Romanian until Adam looked at him in question. “Get on your stomach and spread yourself for me, gorgeous.”

He delighted in how Adam blushed and how quickly he complied. Adam had never told Nigel how much dirty talk turned him on, but Nigel picked up on it quick. There was a subtle difference in how Adam blushed when he was embarrassed or aroused.

He bent over Adam, reaching behind to hold the feeldoe in place until he could get positioned. It didn’t matter how strong his kegels were. If he bent over, the damn thing would pop out. The irritation was only a small price to pay for the pleasure they got out of it. Nigel swiped his tongue over Adam’s opening as he gasped a scandalized: “Nigel!”

He licked his thumb and slid it into Adam before lining himself up. He didn’t remove it until he was in to the hilt and Adam was panting beneath him.

With his body flush to Adam’s, Nigel braced himself on his forearm and with his feet against the footboard. He murmured praises against the back of his neck, and nuzzling the sweat damp hair.

At this angle he didn’t have to worry about the feeldoe coming out and made a quick note to himself that he should probably invest in a harness at some point. Adam’s requests to bottom were becoming frequent enough to warrant it.

His lovely Adam who enabled him to be able to do this. His thrusts were becoming shallow as he felt his orgasm building. Nigel reached beneath Adam, who rutted against the sheets, and circled his cock. Adam batted his hand away, taking it and interlacing their fingers. “I-ah. I want your mouth, a-after.”

“Is that right, baby? Where do you want my mouth?”

“On me.”

“Oh what? _Fuck_ ,” Nigel’s hips were juddering against Adam’s ass as his orgasm pulsed through him. _“Mary mother of Christ,_ Adam, fucking where?” He pulled out of Adam when his head became too sensitive and set the feeldoe to the side.

Adam shifted under him, rolling onto his back. He took Nigel’s hand and guided it to his groin, “Here.” His cheeks were red, “O-on my cock.”

Nigel chuckled, and kissed Adam in an attempt to catch his breath. “All you had to do was say so, you filthy boy.”

“You’re teasing.”

He was more than happy to oblige, and moved down to stretch out between Adam’s legs. Adam’s cock was slick with precum, as were the sheets where he’d rubbed himself. “Look how wet you are.” Nigel grinned as Adam hid his face behind his forearm. “Are you close?”

“Y-Yes!” Adam cried when Nigel took him down to the root. He slid two fingers into him, and added a third soon after, letting Adam rock up into his mouth.

Nigel let his teeth graze the underside of Adam’s cock before he pulled his lips from it. “Do you want to cum in my mouth, gorgeous?”

The tips of Adam’s ears were nearly scarlet when he nodded. “I’d like that.”

 

**v**

Nigel woke the next morning, or at least he thought it was still morning, when Adam shook his shoulder. It was gray outside. Adam’s curls were frizzed and damp. “Morning, gorgeous.” He groaned, stretching lazily until his back popped.

“You have a package.”

“Last time I checked, I didn’t. That shit requires surgery.”

Adam frowned for a second then laughed. “Nigel! No, I mean in the mail.” He thrusted the large envelope into his face. “And package or not, I like what you have.”

Nigel sat up with a grunted “glad you do” and tried to focus on the shipping label. His vision was shit, and it wasn’t entirely due to having just been woke up. “That why you’re all damp, baby?”

“Yes. It’s raining.”

“We get anything else?” He asked, prying the seal open.

“Just a coupon book, and Verizon’s still sending us a paper bill.”

“Waste of fucking paper.” He grumbled as he finally got the envelope open. Dumping the small wrapped contents into his lap, Nigel pushed them towards Adam. “They’re for you, gorgeous.”

“But-“

“I ordered them for you.”

He watched Adam tear into the plastic wrapping and pull out a pair of burgundy underwear. The light flush that colored his cheeks began to spread to the tips of his ears. “Are these women’s underwear?”

“You kept stealing mine, so I figured you could use some in your size. If you don’t like the color I can send them back.”

“I didn’t steal them. I put them back after I wore them. That’s borrowing.”

“Uh huh. Thought borrowing meant you got permission to wear them? I don’t remember you asking to wear the blue trunks you got on now.”

Adam blushed scarlet and held the pair of underwear close to his chest. “I-um. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, gorgeous. How about go try them on and let me see?”

There were three pairs: burgundy and black cheekies; and a pair of navy trunks dotted with constellations. Adam tried all of them, shifting and turning as he got used to the snug fit. 

The burgundy looked amazing against his pale skin. Nigel made a note to remember to buy him more clothes in that color. Maybe a sweater? No, it’s too hot, he thought. 

Adam lingered in the black pair the longest, and Nigel saw how he glanced at himself in the closet mirror. This was the favorite pair, which surprised him. He’d have guessed the constellations would have won him over.

“So, do I need to send them back?”

“No. I like them. You can’t send underwear back once it’s been worn.”

“How’d they know if you’d worn them or not?” He shifted to let Adam slide under the covers beside him. “Just send them back in their little bag and say they’re the wrong color or something.”

“Gross, Nigel.” 

 

**vi**

Nigel ran despite the rain. A treadmill would be useful, but they didn’t have room in the house. They could do without two couches in the living room, but he didn’t want to have that argument with Adam with the cam show gig looming. So he’d just have to make do running in the rain.

At least it wasn’t sweltering.

When he got back, out of breath and soaked through, Adam was at the kitchen table with the laptop. He thought nothing of it as he rushed to the bathroom to dry off until he heard Darko’s voice over the speakers.

It was late for his run, but not that fucking late.

“You look like shit,” Darko greeted him when he came into the camera’s view.

“Fuck off,” he grumbled and pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “You called early.”  
“Actually, I called him.” Adam said, and slid the laptop to the right to prevent Nigel from dripping onto the keyboard.

Nigel wanted to be insulted that Adam called while he wasn’t at home, but couldn’t find the heart to do it. In stead he was simply happy Adam made the effort to call someone without prompt. Someone he didn’t particularly like.

“Adam had some ideas about how this should be set up. I’ll have the money to you by Wednesday so you can get the domain and shit. What do you say to a third now and the rest after I see the finish product?”

Before he could open his mouth to argue, Adam said: “Half. I’ll need to take time away from work to do this properly, so half would compensate for the initial loss.”

All he could do was sit back and listen to his darling lay down his terms. He promised to call Darko before they ended the conversation. “Well shit, that was well fucking done, gorgeous.”

Adam ducked his head and smiled at the complement. When he turned, arm partially extended to hug Nigel, he stopped and made a face. “Your clothes stink.”

“Love you too.”

 


	9. Outpost #31 (Spacedogs)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Thing (1982) AU

Adam was regretting his decision to do the brave thing. Serge was dead, and so was everyone at Thule Station. He wished he hadn’t gone with them to investigate, but Nigel insisted that it’d be a chance for him to learn how to operate a snow mobile. He had wanted to, after all.

Stupid, Adam, he thought.

“Hey! Don’t start that. This isn’t your fault.” Nigel said from across the room.

Adam hadn’t realized he’d spoken aloud. They were shut in his dorm while Lars, Micke, Flavia, and Thor searched the facility for the dog. It’d seemed so friendly when they found it. All alone in the cold with no food or much of a shelter, as Thule Station had suffered extensive fire damage. Now Serge was dead. Torn to pieces and scattered all over the kennel. 

Adam vomited over the oil drums.

He must’ve passed out because the next thing he knew, he was in his dorm and Nigel was bolting the door. “You’ll be safer here,” he’d said. It was meant to be reassuring, but it just filled Adam with dread. Why was it safer in here? Here had only one point of entry and it was far from the exits.

 

Nigel stuck a cigarette between his lips and went to light it. He paused, flame flickering close but not catching. With a sigh, he clicked the lighter closed and sat heavily beside Adam. He stared at the lighter in his hand, thumb running over the etched pattern. It was a pinup similar to the one on his neck. Adam had wondered which came first: the tattoo or the lighter.

The radio crackled to life at Nigel’s belt. They found another body, but can’t identify it. Other than Serge everyone was accounted for as they each called in.

Adam’s brow furrowed as he listened, watching the rhythmic motion of Nigel’s thumb over the metal woman. “Could it be someone from the other station?”

“Maybe.”

 

Nigel talked, sometimes to himself, sometimes to Adam. It kept them both occupied with thoughts other than what was going on outside the 8’ by 10’ dorm. The cigarette clung to Nigel’s dry lower lip as he spoke. The radio was silent.

“So what insanity possessed you to come out to this shit hole?”

Adam shrugged, watching how the cigarette bobbed. “It was a new experience. I wanted to see if I could do it. Leave my house and my routine behind for a little while. I know it’ll be there waiting for me, or, I did. I don’t know now. Do you think we’ll go home?”

“I don’t have a home to go back to, darling, but I’m certainly not planning on fucking dying here.”

“Why are you here?”

“Because I’m supposed to be dead.”

 

It was unexpected, but Nigel found himself telling Adam about the situation with Countryman and Gabi. He didn’t know why. Why should this kid know about all this bullshit? Hell, if they made it out, Adam could turn him over. Fuck it, he thought. To his credit, Adam sat patiently through it all with that same look of concentration he reserved for mapping the stars.

He was pacing as he spoke, and ended by sitting on the floor in front of Adam. He felt lighter, glad to have it out and not be judged for it. He wasn’t the type to call him a pussy for getting shot over love.

“I’ve done stupid things for love,” Adam admitted. “Well, I thought it was love. Love has to be a mutual effort. At least that’s how I understand it.”

 

Lars’s tinny voice over the radio ordered everyone to report to the cafeteria. Adam didn’t want to go, and Nigel honestly didn’t either. However, if they stayed behind it would invite suspicion. He hated it, god did he hate it, but he’d rather not get shot because someone got jumpy.

It took some convincing to get Adam to follow him down the cramped hallway, but follow he did. He had to argue that it would be worse for them both if they stayed behind. Adam’s hand gripped the back of Nigel’s shirtsleeve like a vice.

Everyone was accounted for as they sat in hard plastic chairs. Everyone facing everyone, everyone separate but Nigel and Adam. Adam, who’s fingers tapped a pattern against Nigel’s bicep. He could practically feel him vibrate.

The audio recordings recovered from Thule station had been translated. Flavia explained how the dog had been infected with the parasite reported in the recording. It passed it to Serge, who then passed it to one of them. “It’s a mimic,” she said, “It enters a host and takes over. Every cell replicated to perfection.

“Thule mentioned tattoos and piercings. It can’t reproduce those.” She pulled up the ankle of her pants and showed the edge of a bird’s wing on her calf. “So, let’s see them. Lars has your files, so Nigel: You first.”

 

Nigel’s ears were ringing when the shot goes off next to his head. The world was roaring in silence around him as everyone scrambled to get away from what they thought had been Lars. Lars who split down his face and opened like some god damned venus fly trap from hell.

That motherfucker called them here. The parasite, or whatever bullshit Flavia called it, was smart.

The side of his face was wet and his fingertips came away red when he touched his ear. Fucking Christ, he thought, backing towards the door. Adam had bolted seconds after Lars attacked and he didn’t see which way the kid ran. Fucking shit, fuck, god damn it.

Gun shots were muffled, and Flavia shouted something at him. In front of her she held a flare, which seemed to keep the Lars monstrosity at bay. The bullets sure as shit weren’t doing much except to spray the room with bits of the thing.

Fuck it, he thought, and ran out the door. He needed to get outside; he needed to get Adam. He couldn’t leave him here. Adam didn’t deserve to be left here.

He didn’t think of the others. Fuck them. He didn’t owe them anything.

If he predicted Adam correctly, he’d be back in his dorm. The dorm was where Adam felt safe. His balance was off, his head was throbbing, and he couldn’t hear anything but a shrill buzzing.

The throbbing was increasing. A dull thump, followed by a heavy bump. He paused and felt his pulse, which matched the rapid, but softer thumping. Touching the wall to steady himself as he swayed, he felt the metal and floor beneath him vibrated with each bump.

“Pula mea-”

 

“Open the door, gorgeous.”

Adam uncovered his ears when the pounding stopped. He inched towards the door and cracked it enough to see Nigel’s garish t-shirt. The man pushed the door open the rest of the way, and Adam stumbled backwards only to be pulled into a crushing embrace. “Don’t you ever fucking run off like that. Now come on, get your coat. We have to get out of here.”

“What happened out there? I heard you shouting, and then awful sounds-“

“I scared it off, for now.” He held up the lighter between his fingers, “It doesn’t like fire. Now, hurry, kid, let’s move.”

He didn’t argue no matter how much he wanted to just hide. To close his eyes, cover his ears and hope everything goes away. Rationally, he knew it wouldn’t, and he was glad Nigel was there to give him the push to do the right thing.

With his parka on and day pack over his shoulder, Adam paused to grab the extra coat. Nigel was only wearing a t-shirt and insulated pants. He extends the coat to the other man, confused for a moment as to why Nigel hesitated before taking it. Though he did finally squeeze into it. The sleeves rucked up on his wrists and he couldn’t zip it.

He thought to suggest Nigel get a coat from his room down the hall, but Adam didn’t get the chance as Nigel took his arm. Everything rushed past in a blur as he stumbled behind, trying to keep pace.

“S-slow down. Nigel, please!”

 

He hoped there would be adequate essentials in the pack if they couldn’t call help immediately. Nigel led him through the narrow passage to the communications center, as Adam stumbled behind. His thighs burned as he tried to keep up with the longer, much stronger strides.

He was pushed towards the radio console while Nigel locked the door behind them. “Call for a helicopter, gorgeous”, Nigel said over his shoulder.

Adam watched him begin to push a filing cabinet in front of the door before he turned his attention to the blinking panel. The console was horribly dated, but very functional. It reminded him of something his dad would’ve bought him as a child. Using it was a simple task, so he searched the desk for anything with the frequencies.

A worn three ring binder gave him what he needed. The emergency frequencies were on a yellowed page glued to a piece of red construction paper.

Nigel was bumping around behind him as he began calling out the s.o.s. He glanced back to see him checking the vent cover.

 

The helicopter was two hours out.

Adam sat next to Nigel beneath the desk. Above them were the remnants of decades worth of discarded gum and idle scratching. Their shoulders pressed together and he felt each expansion of the other man’s breath. For once he didn’t mind the contact. He felt safe beside Nigel, despite the lingering odor of cigarette smoke and metallic tang of grease.

He’d been watching Nigel turn his lighter over in his hands. The tattoos on the inside of his fingers and the stylized cross on the left thumb were gone. He frowned at the unmarked skin. He’d been certain there were scars; little criss cross lines across his knuckles. “What happened to your tattoos?”

Beside him he felt Nigel tense and shift uncomfortably. Like Harlan when he sat on a park bench too long.

“You didn’t scare it off, d-did you?” He asked, preparing himself for a lie.

Nigel looked at him. From this angle Adam noticed the pinup woman on his neck was missing, as was the indention in his ear lobe from an old piercing. “No, I didn’t.“

“O-okay. Are you going to kill me?”

“Why would I kill you, Adam?”

“You-no, is it you Nigel? You look like you but without tattoos. You act like you. You even speak like you. Why haven’t you killed me like the others?”

Nigel opened and closed his mouth. Adam couldn’t identify the expression but it looked similar to pain. A fleeting inhuman movement passed beneath his skin. “Because I enjoy your company.” Nigel said finally. “Nigel used-I like you.” He shook his head and pulled out the pack of cigarettes from his pocket.

“Look, I’m me. I have memories. I know they aren’t mine, and they’ll be gone if I need to find another host.” He frowned and thew the pack of cigarettes across the room. “I’ve never considered this,” he paused and seemed to deflate. “You aren’t a threat.”

“That’s why it- you killed them?”

Nigel nodded. “I want to live, but I’m leaving it up to you, gorgeous. You can leave, kill me, do whatever you want.”

“If I tried to kill you, you’d attack me and overpower me easily.” Adam said. “I don’t want to kill you though. Even if you say you aren’t Nigel, you still are in a way.”

 

Adam shielded his eyes as the helicopter kicked up snow. Behind them the station burned brilliant against the dark sky. It’d been Adam’s idea to destroy the evidence. Too many questions would have to be answered if the remains of his team were found as they were. There would be a lot of question regardless, but he and Nigel could handle them.

His gloved hand grips Nigel’s bare one. The other man was under dressed for the climate, but he showed no discomfort. Only some slight redness from wind burn colored his cheeks and nose. Snow flakes clung to his lashes, but unlike Adam, he didn’t wipe them away.

“You said home was San Fransisco?” Nigel shouted over the noise.

“Did you want to go back to your’s?”

“No.”

He looked at Nigel, really looked at him. He wasn’t certain he understood what happened, but Nigel wouldn’t lie to him. This thing said it was both Nigel and not; a little creature hiding in a set of Nigel armor. It took memories and flesh to stay safe, and Adam was safe to it. The feeling made his chest tingle and flutter. He’d felt a degree of that with Beth, and more when Nigel first called him “gorgeous”. Adam decided that was what romantic love felt like. It was the only rational explantation he could find.

Could the thing pretending to be Nigel love? His hand was released as Nigel helped boost him into the helicopter. Adam turned and held out his hand again to pull Nigel inside.

As they settled in to the uncomfortable bench seats, Adam nestled into Nigel’s side. The other man’s arm wound around him as he sunk down to use Nigel’s bulk dull the sound of the whirring blades. Against his ear he could hear the dull thudding of Nigel’s heart. He closed his eyes and focused on the rhythmic sound.


End file.
